Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 120240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
“Do you know what your problem is?” he says.
“I'm being held against my will with a man I hate, who I'm being forced to marry,” I say, my palm up in the air. “I think that about sums it up.”
He gives me a half smile. “Yeah, you know, it's not much better for me.”
I look away. I don't like the sadness in his eyes. It makes me feel like I want to make it better.
And I want to keep hating him. I need to.
“The problem is you overthink everything. Your mind races. I can see it just by looking at you. And you know what happens in a place like this?” He gestures around the room.
“I actually have no idea,” I say with a grimace, even as my heart beats so fast I'm a little dizzy. “It looks kind of, um, violent and…sexual.”
His low, dark chuckle is seductive, primal. Why is every nerve in my body on fire?
“This is where people let go. You need to stop thinking for once in your fuckin' life.” He steps closer, his voice dropping. “I can help with that.”
My breath catches. “What?”
“You heard me.” His eyes drop to my mouth, then lower. “I can make that busy head of yours go quiet. Make you feel nothing but what I'm doing to you.”
“Cavin—”
“That's the first time you've said my name without spitting it.” He reaches out, his fingers grazing my jaw. “Say it again.”
I shouldn't. This is ridiculous. But my body's already leaning into his touch. “No.”
His thumb traces my bottom lip. “Your mouth says no, but everything else is screaming yes. I can see your pulse racing right here”—he touches my throat—“and feel how hot your skin is.”
“You're so full of yourself—”
“And you're so wound up you're about to snap.” His hand slides into my hair, gripping firmly enough to make me gasp.
“I hate you,” I whisper, but it sounds weak, even to my ears.
“Grand. I wonder if you’d hate me while you came on my fingers.”
Oh god.
A dull but insistent vibration comes from his pocket. With a curse, he yanks his phone out and glances at the screen. He curses, low and furious.
The moment shatters.
He drags a hand through his hair, jaw tight with frustration, and looks at the clock on the wall and curses again.
“I’ve got something I have to do,” he says. “I have to go.”
I blink at him, still trying to catch my breath. “What?”
“Go home, Erin.” He’s already moving toward the door. “We’ll talk about this and the punishment I owe you later.”
“You don’t owe—”
“I do. You came here without permission, and anybody who comes in here unwelcome gets punished. That’s the rule. Ask anyone who works here.”
“You can’t just—”
He stops and turns back, and in two strides, he’s in front of me again, his hand cupping my face. “Later,” he says firmly. He’s so close I wonder if he’ll kiss me. His gaze lingers on my lips and he swallows hard.
I draw in another breath when his thumb brushes my bottom lip. “You listen to me, lass. Are you listening, Erin?”
I nod.
“Don’t you ever come here again without me. I’m having you sent home.”
He doesn’t wait for an answer but turns and marches away.
He leaves me aching, my heart racing, and my body trembling, trying to figure out what the hell just happened.
Chapter Fourteen
Cavin
“Y’alright, brother?” My cousin Donovan eyes me curiously.
I shake my head. “Need to get the fuck out of here.”
“Right, then. I’ll notify the front,” he says with a chin lift.
I slam my office door hard enough to rattle the frame. My hands are shaking—not with fear, never with fear. It’s something far more dangerous coursing through me, something that needs blood and violence to settle.
That girl. That fuckin’ girl.
That beautiful, exhausting, infuriating fucking woman.
I stalk down the back corridor, and my crew melts out of my way like they can smell what’s coming off me. Good lads. They know better than to get in my path when I’m like this.
The bass thrums through the walls, but it’s not enough—not enough to burn off whatever the fuck burns inside me. My skin feels too tight, my blood too hot.
“Sir, do you need anything?” one of the bouncers asks, but I shake my head.
Need anything? Like fuck, I need something.
Her.
But I can’t have her, not yet.
I need the ring.
The thought comes to me so quickly, so naturally, it surprises me. But not now. I can’t. I haven’t been in a ring since before my time in prison.
I shove through the doors into the main club. The crowd’s thick tonight, bodies pressed together, the air hazy with smoke and sweat and spilled drink. But it’s beautiful, and it’s mine. I love it here. It’s my second home.
My feet carry me with purpose, straight toward the exit that takes me to my car so I can pay the fucking tribute. Not only do I hate being strung by the bollocks, but I could still be here, still have more time with Erin. I owe her a punishment for coming here, and goddamn it, I’m aching to fuckin’ administer it.